


Non, je ne regrette rien

by flying_elliska



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Everyone is a Grown Up (ish), F/F, Film Director Eliott, Fluff, High School Reunion, Lesbian Daphné, M/M, Post-Canon, Researcher Lucas, Self-Indulgent, Wish Fulfillment, background Imane/French Yousef, not marles friendly (not sorry), past Daphne/Basile (sorry), with a touch of late twenties existential blues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 06:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17996729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flying_elliska/pseuds/flying_elliska
Summary: “Hey, you’ve got an invitation, look at this !”Lucas puts the knife down on the chopping board and frowns as he sees the envelope’s creamy paper embossed with gold. Who even sends letters anymore ? He asks his husband to open it. Eliott's eyebrows go sky high as he does, and bursts into laughter.“Babe, guess what. You’ve officially been invited to a ten-year high school reunion.”Lucas makes a face of disgust.“What ? What the hell is this, a bad American romcom ?” He grabs the invitation. “Let me guess, he says as he takes in the immaculate printing, this is Daphne’s doing. Holy shit, she’s rented a boat !...Or the one where it's ten years later, Lucas and Eliott are living together and happily married, and it's time for them to go back to high school and see how everyone's been doing.A little bit of fluff to get us through the end of the everlasting Hell Week.





	Non, je ne regrette rien

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to get too specific about what happened when they were in HS, because we don't know all of it yet, and I don't want this to become non-canon, but I might edit it later tbh. 
> 
> Enjoy !

 

 

 

JEUDI, 20:12 - 21/04/30 - LUCAS

 

 

Lucas is staring at his screen, lost in thought, when he hears the appartment door open along with the sound of humming and keys being thrown on the kitchen counter.

All of a sudden he realizes how long he’s been stuck, and how sore his shoulders are. He stretches and yawns. This project at work is taking way too much of his energy lately, too many late nights, too much stress. He feels like he is going to become one with his desk chair.

That’s when he knows he needs to go back to the basics. He shuffles to the kitchen, and the sight that meets him immediately makes him feel better.

His husband is leaning against the counter, sifting through a truly impressive pile of mail.

His hair is poking out everywhich way, meaning he must have been raking his hands through it, and Lucas recognizes lines of tension on his face.They’ve been more frequent lately, ever since his last short movie got several awards. The pressure is getting to him.

But when Eliott looks up and smiles, it’s still like the sun enters the room.

Even though he’s seen it almost evey single day for the past ten years, it punches Lucas right in the gut. He’ll never get tired of it. Eliott always smiles with his whole soul for him.

He walks straight over to him, grabs Eliott’s face, and kisses him passionately.

Eliott laughs into the kiss, the fucker.

“ Wow, babe ! What’s gotten into you ? Was work that boring ? Or did you miss me ?

\- Yes, Lucas says, always.” And leaves it at that. Eliott blinks, those dreamy eyes looking at him full of wonder.

He always periodically forgets, somehow, how much Lucas loves him. It’s Lucas’s job to remind him, and he takes it very seriously. Very, very seriously.

He presses Eliott against the kitchen counter and very soon, they forget everything about deadlines or expectations.

It’s just them, and that’s the best feeling in the world.

…

An indeterminate amount of time later, they find themselves entangled on the couch, languid and loose limbed. Installing heavy curtains in their open living room truly was an inspired investment.

Lucas is nuzzling into Eliott’s neck, filling his nose with the scent of him as he basks in the afterglow, content sinking down to his very bones, when he hears a strident gurgle. So much for romance.

Eliott laughs, low and husky, and puts his hand on Lucas’ belly.

“So, pizza or thai ?

\- What are we, seventeen ? No, no, I am going to cook.” Lucas declares, determined. It’s very important to him. He’s an accomplished adult. He can make dinner for his husband. They have ingredients for a decent bolognese. He thinks. Hm.

He grabs his boxers off the floor and makes his way to the kitchen. Said husband distracts him every step of the way, but finally relents when Lucas threatens to exile him to the office room.

Eliott settles on a counter chair, looking at Lucas like he wants to eat him instead of the food. Again. Eliott is completely incapable of being subtle, which means Lucas has to be the one to exercise self-control. Otherwise they’ll still be here in the morning.

“Hey, you’ve got an invitation, look at this !”

Lucas puts the knife down on the chopping board and frowns as he sees the envelope’s creamy paper embossed with gold. Who even sends letters anymore ?

He asks Eliott to open it, and his eyebrows go sky high as he does, and bursts into laughter.

“Babe, guess what. You’ve officially been invited to a ten-year high school reunion.”

Lucas makes a face of disgust.

“What ? What the hell is this, a bad American romcom ?” He grabs the invitation. “Let me guess, he says as he takes in the immaculate printing, this is Daphne’s doing. Holy shit, she’s rented a boat !

\- Isn’t she an event planner, or something now ?

\- Yeah, that makes sense. Wow, she hasn’t changed a bit. There’s even a password.

\- So, um, do you want to go ?”

Lucas considers it for a while.

His first instinct would be to say no, no way. High school was overall not a very fun time in his life. He was lonely and repressed and miserable as hell right until the moment he met Eliott. And even afterward, it wasn’t a walk in the park.

Then again, he hasn’t seen a lot of these people in a while. They’d kind of drifted apart post college, now that everyone is busy with grownup jobs and lives. He still sees Manon, Imane and Yann quite regularly, but it would be fun to see everyone together again in the same room.

And well. He’s been doing pretty well for himself. It’s one hell of a glow up from the closeted kid who slept in Mika’s basement.

Eliott is looking at him, eyes warm.

“Consulting your parallel universe selves for advice, baby ?”

The old joke fills him with nostalgia.

“ Well, you know. Businessman Lucas thinks it’s a waste of time, and time is money and money is life, blah blah blah. Surfer Lucas think it’s totally whatever, dude. But um…I think they’re kind of morons, to be honest.

\- That’s not very nice to say of yourself, babe. I’m pretty sure all versions of you are very smart.

\- Yeah, but it took me some time to do something with it. I’ve got the best life now. If anything, they should be taking advice from me.

\- Right, Eliott laughs, and what advice are you giving yourself then ?

\- I’m going back to school, I think.

\- Aha. And will you need a date ?” Eliott is smiling, but there’s a hint of uncertainty that passed over his face, just the faintest. Lucas can read that face better than any book. He hates that. Eliott deserves cloudless skies forever, and just a little rain when he wants.

And the past can’t harm them anymore.

“The only reason I’m going is to remind them who got the hottest guy in school, he says, jokingly, but dead serious.

\- Really ?

\- Stop being so modest, I know exactly how long you've spent in front of the mirror this morning.”

It’s true. If Eliott at 19 was turning heads all over high school, Eliott at 28 would make angels cry. He still can’t believe it most days, that he got so lucky, and that’s the least of it.

“And I mean, Emma is probably going to make fun of me for still being with the first guy I ever had, you know. She’s going to get plastered and tell me that high school romances are overrated and love is dead, or something, but you know. I really think I don’t give a shit when it comes to that.

\- Yeah ? You have no regrets at all ?

\- You’re my first and my last, baby. In every universe. I’ve come to terms with it.

Eliott raises his eyebrows, his eyes crinkling at the corner.

\- Well, I don’t have any regrets either,” he says, voice soft.

They don’t succeed in making any pasta that night.

 

 

MERCREDI 2:34, 27/06/30 - ELIOTT

 

Eliott can’t sleep.

Next to him, Lucas is hogging most of the bed as usual, doing his best impression of a drunken starfish.

His breathing is a little on the loud side, but it’s never disturbed Eliott. If anything, it grounds him. It’s like his own little white noise machine, except more cuddly.

His own tendency to wake up at night used to scare him, but he’s learned to work around it. He doesn’t immediately jump to conclusions anymore. He just makes sure that he goes to bed early enough and that his overall schedule stays steady.

And when it occasionally does happen, he’s learned to occupy himself, not to stay alone with his thoughts in the dark. This is often his most creative time, now.

He kisses his husband’s forehead softly before getting up, as silently as possible, and makes his way to their shared working room.

Lucas needs his sleep. Eliott is actually a bit worried - these last few weeks, as the date of the high school reunion started to loom closer, he’s clearly been stressed out. He hasn’t seen his husband’s pricklier side this much in quite some time. It’s never something he directs at Eliott either, but he has been going on an abnormally high number of oddly specific rants against his colleagues, the news, and the Parisian public transport system.

Not that it’s in anyway deserving of praise, but still.

As his computer boots up, Eliott is considering working a little on the scenario for his next project, but he’s suddenly struck by the need to go check on some of his old files.

It’s still there. Polaris.

As he was applying to film school, he’d tried to go back to it, but it hadn’t worked out, and he had even less luck the next times he tried. It didn’t just exist in his head anymore ; it was something that belonged to him and Lucas. Polaris had allowed him to woo the love of his life. He didn’t want to show it to other people. It had become too intimate, too charged.

It still feels like the most special thing he’s ever done.

But…They’ve been together for more than ten years now.

And they have so many other memories to build off from, so many memories that are so uniquely theirs.

Nobody will ever know the private details of those moments. What Lucas looks like at dawn after climbing to a mountaintop for hours, nearly in tears from exertion and laughter. What he looks late at night, grumpy and overcaffeinated, pushing himself because what he does will help so many people. What he looks like in the most tender hours of the night, when he feels safe enough to let go of anything that isn't them. All the little details of living with someone who is this kind and funny and sharp and passionate - who can not just keep up with Eliott but challenge him at every turn, show him new things, new ways to see the world, like a fresh wind in his sails. And all the times Lucas proved to him that no matter how lost he can get in the depths of his own mind, there will always be someone to draw him back. Theirs is a love that is equally fitted to the sunny, shallow joys of existence and to the most tumultuous storms. All that is theirs, all theirs.

He could dedicate his life's work to trying to illustrate that and it wouldn't even cover it. 

So maybe he could finally bring Polaris to life, as a celebration instead of a pure expression of yearning.

As a recognition of how important it was and still is. A tribute. 

And he has so many talented people around him now. One of his friends has been experimenting with a new way of capturing light on film, that gives this surreal glow to everything to the point where they can work with dust motes, and flow, and…

Well, the point is, he’s not alone anymore, and he’s got experience now, enough to make his lonely teenage self’s vision into something solid and beautiful.

Isn’t that what he has done with his life, against all odds ?

He grabs his graphic tablet and archives his latest project - something about giant mythical beasts ambling through the city at night with old school techniques like models, shadows and cut paper - to sketch some new storyboards.

He’s got a whole new lease on how to do angles and transitions now. He wants to incorporate a flashlight, a moment of flickering where boundaries are blurred and everything hangs in the balance.

Scary, but magical. Those are the moments of transformation, where most important things happen in life.

He gets so lost in the process he doesn’t even notice Lucas entering the room until he has sneaked in and rested his chin on Eliott’s shoulder.

“Polaris, huh ?

\- Yeah.

\- You gave your creature hair this time,” Lucas mumbles.

Eliott stares at his latest drawing.

It’s true.

Short fuffy hair standing up, a little bit like a spiky puff. He laughs softly. He’s never going to find an actor with eyes the right kind of blue.

“Of course I did. Well, that’s fine. I’m drawing from memory now anyway”

Lucas muffles a noise in Eliott’s shirt, half-yawn half-embarassed protest.

“You married a filmmaker, babe. Did you honestly believe you would escape being a little bit of a muse someday ?

\- Shit, I can’t with you. How are you still so romantic at 4 in the morning ?”

Eliott laughs and keeps drawing, Lucas wrapped around his back and watching as the grey light of pre-dawn slowly fills the room through the curtains.

After a while, Lucas whispers :

“How’s the weather, my love ?”

It’s their way of checking in with each other, developped after many mishaps.

In the years after they first got together, Lucas was so worried about him at times it lead to several breakdowns in communication, the worst of it culminating in a six-months break when they were in their second year of university. He was never patronizing or smothering, like his first girlfriend Lucille. But he had a tendency to go overboard when caring for others, neglecting his own health and studies.

He knows, now, that Lucas was overcompensating for his past, desperately trying to extend the love and care he’d sorely missed himself. But at the time, Eliott hated the way it made him feel like a burden.

They’ve come a long way since then, feeling around in the dark past clumsiness and shame and earnest mistakes, to a place of deep honesty and comfort.

“It’s okay, I think. Mostly sunny, a few rain showers. Probably rainbows. Might take an umbrella. What about you ?

\- Cloudy with a chance of meatballs ?

Eliott snorts.

\- Does that mean I’m finally getting pasta ?

Lucas groans.

\- You’re lucky I love you so much, because that was the most atrocious movie reference I have ever heard.

\- I’m sorry, but seriously, this HS reunion thing is kinda freaking me out.”

There’s a moment of silence. Eliott gives him time to come forward.

“It’s like…our lives are great now. But when I think about the past, there’s this insecurity that comes up like…it makes no sense. I’m out, I’m happy, I have my own family. But it’s still there.

\- I get it. I’m an award winning director with an amazing, beautiful husband who’s well on his way to eradicate the most awful virus known to mankind. Life is good. But those people, they knew us when we were vulnerable and completely unfinished…I feel like the moment I step back in that courtyard, I’ll be that weird kid again, who failed his bac twice and created all that drama and isn’t right in the head. Because that’s what they’ll remember me as. The more I’ll see it in their eyes, the more true it will become again.”

He feels Lucas flinch against him at his harsh words, and unfold his arms to wrap them around Eliott’s waist, squeezing him tight.

\- I…don’t want you to feel like that, Lucas says. And me, I just…well, those weren’t my proudest moments. I still feel it’s important that we go, I just…it’s weird how much this is affecting me.

\- It’s going to be fine, my love, Eliott continues. We can deal with a few flashbacks. I know I’m at a place in life when I can face it now. Yeah we were a mess, back then. I wouldn’t relive it for the world. But we owe so much to those kids we used to be, you know ? They got us here, and they had nobody to guide them a lot of the time. They deserve us to be proud of them, even if they weren’t proud of themselves. And I mean. Meeting you was magic. The rest was all worth it, only for that.”

At that, Lucas leans forward to kiss him, softly, before bumping their cheeks together.

\- We really did all that, huh, Lucas muses. Man, we were a bunch of truly brave little morons.

\- Yeah, we were. Eliott laughs softly as he keeps sketching. Makes for great cinema, though.

 

 

 

SAMEDI 17:44 - 30/06/30 - LUCAS

 

 

The day of the reunion dawns bright and sunny.

They’ve spent a lazy morning in bed, enjoying each other, only getting up after noon. Lucas promised his husband that this time would be for them, so he kept his itching fingers away from any keyboards or screens. Eliott made crepes with melted chocolate, deliciously decadent. They curled up together on their big couch, read, watched a weird documentary about deminer rats, and rearranged their utility closet. Lucas’s still surprised about all the things they’d managed to lose in there, including four different brooms, one of Eliott’s best lenses hidden in an empty cereal box (why), a bag of onions that had taken on a life of their own, and an album of honeymoon photos they’d completely forgotten existed, maybe because it was the one where they both sported completely sunburnt noses after going off trail for a week in Nepal and looked like a pair of molting lobsters.

The reunion is at 6. They will be having dinner in the old foyer, before going to party on a rented boat on the Seine.

Lucas parks the car a few blocks away. He really wants them to have a little time to breathe and enjoy the sun before the madness starts.

It’s a gorgeous early summer day, with a little breeze deflecting the heat and sunlight glittering on the water.

It’s incredibly thrilling still for some reason, walking hand in hand with his husband along the Canal St Martin, this close to their old school.

Eliott can’t stop grinning at him either. He looks like a vision in his tight black turtleneck, camel longcoat swung over his shoulder, hair as wild as ever. His eyes are intense and full on mischievous, in a way that really does something to Lucas’ underbelly feelings.

“Hey, so…things are heating up between you and that girl Chloe, huh ?”

Lucas rolls his eyes. Of course he would go there, the asshole.

“Yeah, she’s incredible. Woman of my life. Might ask her to marry me in the fall. I always wanted a honeymoon in Bali”

“Bali, hm ? That’s cute. Are you sure she’s the one, though ?”

“Yes absolutely. She ticks all my boxes ! I mean, she’s such a …female woman ! She even has breasts and everything ! I think. It’s amazing. Everything I need right there.”

Eliott laughs out loud. Lucas loves that sound more than anything else in the world, and the fact that they can joke easy now about their earlier jealousies and mistakes feels very healing.

“Love at first sight, then.”

“Oh you know how it is, girl bumps into boy once, it must be true love.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Are you talking about yourself now ?”

Eliott raises his eyebrows in a way that makes Lucas blush, then stops and pulls him closer, until their noses almost touch.

“I don’t know, do you have any boxes left for me to tick ? Or are you all ticked out ? Are you sure your boxes are being ticked appropriately ?”

“Oh, okay, we’re playing it like that, dirty talk in the street ? I don’t remember that part.”

“Why don’t we make up for lost time ?”

“Wait, don’t you have an imaginary girlfriend, too ?”

“Nah. I’m not even playing at that.”

“Well then, you can tick my boxes anytime.”

Eliott smiles and wraps his arms around Lucas’ head, drawing him into a passionate kiss, unhurried and slow, that tastes like minty toothpaste and cigarettes. They have all the time in the world.

Lucas thinks of his teenage self, who’d yearned for this so fervently even as the idea of holding another man’s hand in the street terrified him, and he kind of wants to do a victory dance on the spot.

A few seconds or maybe minutes later, someone coughs loudly next to them. History repeats, apparently, but thankfully with better timing.

“Well, I see you two are still as disgustingly in love as ever.”

Emma is standing in front of them, an amused expression on her face. She looks good, if a little jet lagged - hair in a pixie cut, tanned, bag slung over her shoulder, looking as carefree and adventurous as ever. Lucas moves to hug her as if they’d last seen each other last week.

“Glad to see you made it.”

“Daphne would have reached across two entire oceans to kick my ass if I didn’t. And you know, I figured my family might like to see me, accessorily. And you, still can’t get you past the Périphérique, I see ?”

“That’s a gross overexaggeration. We toured half the world for our honeymoon.”

“And let me guess, you’ve been shackled to your desks ever since ? Well, at least you’re rocking the “just rose from my coffin” look together.”

“Oh, okay - sorry, not all of us want to look like Australian beef jerky.”

They fall easily into bickering the rest of the way, insulting each other in a friendly manner. It really is like old times.

When they finally reach the gate of their old high school, Eliott holds Lucas back for a moment, taking both his hands. Lucas can feel his husband is nervous.

“You know, say the magic word and we’re out of there in a second, okay ?”

Eliott leans forward  and muffles his laugh in Lucas’ collar.

“How is this worse than Cannes, seriously ?“

"I almost wish there were paparazzi now, as distraction.”

“Let’s pretend there are and put our game faces on, then.”

Eliott laughs again and ruffles through Lucas’ hair, who protests but lets him do it. He always does.

They walk through the gate, hand in hand. 

The place hasn’t changed much, except for a lot more vegetation and a few fancy screens here and there. Seeing it evokes a tangled knot of complicated feelings in him. They haven’t been back since graduation, really. 

From across the courtyard, he sees Manon come toward them.

She looks better than the last time he saw her, when she was fresh from her breakup with some hotshot war reporter. He loves this woman, truly, that’s his sister right there, but god he wishes for her own sake she’d grow out of her taste for passionate, moody assholes. And it’s not the first time, nor the last, he feels he will have to help her pick up the pieces. But that’s okay. She’s always been there in his most difficult times.

And now she’s there, standing tall, wrapped in a designer coat, rocking her signature red lipstick even though there are bags under her eyes and he knows this is the look she wears when she’s pretending to be okay. He realizes then one of his goals tonight will be to make sure nobody bothers her about her love life. She’s an amazingly accomplished woman, who's been published in the top newspapers of the country. That’s all anybody needs to know.

Eliott gives her an extra long hug. Those are the best thing in the world, and his husband has always been intuitive about these things. Good.

Together, they move towards the foyer.

Their old haunt is completely gone - the mural, their ratty old couch, all the things they’d painstakingly gathered together. The space has been merged with another room and is twice as large. Then again, it makes it possible to fit in enough tables, which might not have been possible back then. Their old beat down furniture has been cleared to make room for lush greenery and designer sofas, uncannily clean for a high school.

It’s been lavishly decorated too, with a banner, pastel streamers and golden balloons. In front of the window there is a buffet full of all sorts of drinks, salads and cakes. It’s definitely too much for this type of occasion but then again. Daphne.

When they enter the room, heads turn, and the gazes aimed their way are a bit too curious and insistent for his taste. Well, they did end up being one of the most dramatic squads in their year, in the end, it was to be expected but…It’d better be admiration for his on-his-way to famous husband, and nothing else, because if he’s grown out of one thing, it’s suffering fools.

He feels both Eliott and Manon’s grip on his arms tighten.

A very enthusiastic Daphne appears out of thin air in front of them, as if on wheels. She looks like she stepped out of the pages of a magazine, baby blue dress, hair carefully plaited with little glass flowers, as peppy as ever. She seems happy, if a little wired. 

She welcomes them, kisses all of their cheeks and then directs them to their table, where they find little calligraphied tags to their names in the plates, before storming off again.

Their table is already half-full. Arthur is there, in a crisp suit, accompanied by a posh, bored looking brunette. He is pointedly not talking to Basile, sitting next to him.

Lucas sighs internally. He’d really hoped that was over. Basile is accompanied by a vaguely bird-faced woman, who is wearing the exact same disastrous color scheme as him, brown and bright green and red.

And then there’s Imane, looking impeccable in her deep red scarf and elegant black dress, and her husband Yousef, in deep conversation. Finally, to round it off, there’s two random people Lucas already feels sorry for.

They all greet each other. It’s a little awkward. He’s happy seeing Imane and Yousef though. It’s been a while, what with their little daughter and Imane’s company getting off the ground and his own crazy schedule.

Lucas gets a text from Yann saying he’s going to be late. Basile launches into an explanation of his latest crowdfunding project, something about an app and cryptocurrency that barely registers.

The room slowly fills up. Arthur talks about his family company’s ventures into the South Asian market. Lucas slowly starts feeling like he wants to jump into the Seine. He didn’t come here to witness how boring his friends have become and how adulthood is descending on them to make them into pre-mummified copies of their parents. He thinks he’d almost rather go back to hear college age Basile brag about all his conquests in graphic detail. Almost.

And he can feel his husband tensing up next to him; he knows how much Eliott hates speaking about his work archievements, that it always feels like bragging to him, that he wants the work to talk for itself.

Thankfully, this is the moment Alexia chooses to make her entrance. Far from toning herself down, she’s only become more colorful and boisterous over the years. Hair bubblegum pink, in a dress marked with a giant golden thunderbolt, she makes all heads turn in her direction. Lucas used to think she was a little obnoxious, to be honest, but she’s like a breath of fresh air now.

She plops into a chair at their table and immediately launches a debate about the worst part of the new foyer and if they could donate another paper toilet rolls sculpture.

It’s a relief from everyone posturing about their jobs. Although honestly, Alexia’s probably the most successful of all of them. He can never wrap his head around what she does exactly, except that it involves millions of online followers, sponsorships in the US, dancing videos with cats and her own line of shoes.

Eliott leaves and comes back with drinks for the both of them. They clink their craft beer bottles against each other and Eliott leans down to whisper in his ear :

“Too bad they took away our couch.”

Lucas snorts.

“Fuck no, that thing was a health hazard when we were here already, can you imagine after ten years ?”

“I don’t know, I mean. It could have been fun to recreate some memories after everyone leaves.” Lucas chokes on his beer. If Eliott is trying to distract him, it’s surely working.

Across the table he can see Arthur’s date look at them with a contemptuous glance on her face. The woman exhudes as much fun as a bag of frozen broccoli.

Petty, he plants a sloppy kiss on Eliott’s cheek. If they’ve earned one thing, it’s the right to not worry about what people think of their PDA, goddamn.

Daphne arrives at their table and sits down, slightly out of breath.

“Hey guys ! I’m so happy you are all here ! It’s been a while, huh ? I have a surprise for everyone later, I hope you will all participate, I’m counting on you !”

For a moment Lucas is terrified she’s going to quiz them on their lives or force them into some sort of weird bonding exercise.

Then he sees the look on Basile’s face and realizes they have worse issues to worry about. Fucking hell, they dated for a few months ten years ago, and he’s still looking at her like she hung the moon, and right in front of his girlfriend too. It took him years to get over her, they were gross the first time, and if Basile does something stupid it’s going to take the awkwardness levels from slightly unpleasant to excruciating for the rest of the evening.

Then a tall, beautiful woman with dark skin and long tresses comes toward their table, effortlessly elegant in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She puts her hand on Daphne’s shoulder.

“Hey babe, sound’s all set up.”

Daphne blushes up to her ears.

“Hey everyone, uh. This is Sam. She’s my work partner and also. Uh. She’s going to be my wife.”

The table erupts into shouts of congratulations, surprise and joy. Manon hugs Daphne, Basile’s expression falls to the floor, and Alexia claps her hands laughing. Lucas isn’t surprised, but he is proud. For a long time, Daphne was even deeper in denial than he was. And Sam looks awesome.

Lucas exchanges a smile with his husband. Maybe coming to this reunion was worth it after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Daphne's wife to be is a cool Parisian DJ with incredible forearms, you're welcome. 
> 
> ...
> 
> *Captain Holt pretending to be straight voice* I see a pair of thick weighty breasts and all logic flies out of the window. Nothing is more intoxicating in a woman than the clear absence of a penis
> 
> ....
> 
> This is my first time actually writing fic and publishing it since my days of writing HP self-inserts when I was 14. Wow, this season is doing things to me. 
> 
> ... 
> 
> good luck for the rest, my mecs. Leave a comment if you're not dead yet or if you've risen from the grave to read fic because you're still not over it


End file.
